


Inductance

by Meadow Lion (Meadow_Lion)



Category: Secretary (2002)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Canon Het Relationship, Consensual Kink, Electricity, Erotica, F/M, Piercings, Plot What Plot, Post-Canon, Wax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-15
Updated: 2007-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadow_Lion/pseuds/Meadow%20Lion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Inductance":  a conductor utilizing electrical current to produce altered power levels in surrounding conductors (paraphrased from Dictionary.com).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inductance

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to [the Ficathon of Dooooooom '07 challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/dooooooom), my prompt for which was "'Is there a signal there, on the other side?' On the other side? What do you mean, side of what things?" The singular take on that prompt is mine. Also mine alone are any mistakes remaining after [](http://shoshannagold.livejournal.com/profile)[**shoshannagold**](http://shoshannagold.livejournal.com/) provided her fine beta skills.

_My reins tightened with a yank of Edward's fist while he fucked me into our pristine white kitchen wall one Sunday evening. The pleasure and smell of leather biting my jaw through the bridle, and the flat metallic weight of the bit across my tongue, had me struggling to refocus on the wall like he had directed._

 _As his thrusts into my ass quickened, Edward announced that he'd been doing research and I should choose a safe word. He slipped the bit free and massaged my cheeks. Flexing my tongue, I said that I had already chosen a safe word; I'd done some research of my own. His queries went unanswered -- regardless of how sharply he punctuated them -- other than my reassurance that he would know the word, if or when he heard it._

 _Approval warmed his eyes, but he reprimanded me for getting ahead of myself -- and him. He left me standing, re-bridled, still naked and facing that blank wall, while he watched_ 60 Minutes _in the study. Anderson Cooper muffled any sounds Edward might have been making while beating off._

*~*~*

"Fondle yourself."

Barely a step into the house after their first anniversary dinner (six crinkle-cut carrot slices, five bites of lemon trout, two different cupcake halves, and ten asparagus spearheads for Lee), Edward turned and pinned her to the front door with one open palm against her shoulder, straining the seams of his tuxedo jacket and dress shirt.

With his free hand, he rucked up her cranberry linen skirt above her waist and popped open the buttons of her creamy satin blouse. Under the blouse was a cranberry satin push-up bra. Under the skirt, creamy flesh from her waist to cranberry high-heeled feet was only interrupted by her reddened ass. Her skin remained flushed and sore there from that afternoon, when the lunch she'd taken into Edward's office had included a light-less firefly beneath the outer lid on his coffee thermos.

Lee's hands drifted downward, her fingers spreading as her legs did.

"No." Edward's command snapped away her hands like a cracked whip. "Not there -- not yet."

"Where --?"

"You know where."

She plucked open the front clasp of her bra. Cupping her breasts, she lifted them and tipped back her head against the door. She let a smile shape her tone but not her lips. "I was wondering when you would notice."

Edward's eyes flashed in reflection of the two delicate silver rings, each pinching one of her nipples into a tight bud. He said calmly, "No, you weren't."

Her eyebrows arched when he turned his back to her. "I don't know what you mean."

"You do, Lee. You knew the moment I noticed the piercings -- the moment I saw you swinging that pretty, impudent little ass of yours across the Grand Finale dining room to meet me at our table tonight -- and you relished it." Facing her again, he pulled a red Sharpie from his inner jacket pocket, uncapped it, and meticulously penetrated its cap with the opposite end of the pen.

Now Lee's mouth quirked upward. She swept her thumbs over her breasts in wide, loopy curves. "How could you tell?"

"You were pointing . . ." Edward drew a precise circle around her aureoles. He crossed each circle with a diagonal line, the pen's wet, red tip catching and dragging across her contracted nipple until her breath caught, too. The heel of his hand pressed against her clit. ". . . and wet enough for me to smell you, the entire time."

She widened her stance carefully and murmured, "Maybe the wait staff, too."

His nostrils flaring, he tucked the recapped pen back into his jacket. "No. Only me."

Her mouth, open to meet his, was confirmation. Their kiss was slow and deep and narcotic, like falling asleep in the snow, and Lee tilted into the pleasant haze. She jerked abruptly as lightning touched ground through her nipples. Edward's fingers gave the rings another quick tug, sharpening the lingering tenderness of the recent piercings and startling a whimper from her throat.

"I told you not to cut yourself again." His grasps gentled to caresses that stoked the heat inside her.

Lee sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling with his soft, deft touch. She cleared her throat but spoke shakily nonetheless. "I didn't do it myself. I went to a professional piercing salon, where a woman named Mandy inserted them for me."

"Mandy," Edward repeated without inflection.

"She held my breasts like they were chalices, like she'd found fragments of the Holy Grail and had to have just one sip, but --" Lee's teeth dug into the swell of her lower lip as Edward tugged again, lightly. "I didn't let her. And if you want, I can take out the rings, and the holes will heal completely. Mandy did also sell me this, though."

Edward stepped away to let Lee access her handbag. She drew out a slim, silver filigree chain with clasps at both ends. Taking it, he glanced at the clasps and attached one to each piercing. Her bag fell and was kicked aside as Edward pulled gently on the links.

"So, do you like it?" she asked, her voice a willow reed of soft-tipped tension.

He slipped off her blouse and bra, as well as his own jacket, shirt, and tie, and draped them all over the arms of a nearby chaise lounge. She leaned against the polished oaken door as he trailed his index fingernail along the chain, and her skin beneath where it rested. "It . . . has possibilities."

Bracing her shoulders on the door arched her chest forward to the keystones of Edward's hands. His fingers notched into place bracketing her taut nipples. With his index fingers on the underside of the chain, closer to her skin, and his middle fingers on the outside, nearer himself, he began curling them down and up so that the filigree coiled around those two fingers of each hand.

"Now, I want your hands on your pussy," he said, in a low tone that twined into her the way his fingertips did the chain.

Compliance was easy -- especially when she could feel how hard Edward was, his thigh spreading her legs like a blade separating cream, and his cock nudging her hands. She shifted so the fleshy sides of her hands grazed his length.

His long swallow rendered the word a purr: "Good."

Unbound by a flick of his wrists, the chain then stretched to a V at the first knuckle of his index finger. Lee caught his eyes and begged with her own. He inclined his head to kiss her while her hands began to move. Accompanying each of her strokes between them, against them, he pulled on the links.

His urgency palpable in her mouth, Edward unzipped his pants to pull out his cock. Every pinprick sensation in her nipples coursed along Lee's nerves to her cunt, to the wetness coating her fingers. She fell into the rhythm of it, harsh and quick. The door kept her from sagging back, but her heels kept pitching her forward. Moaning, she had to drop her head to his shoulder. He fumbled in his pocket and raised his shaking free hand to press the Sharpie between her lips. She clamped her teeth around it gratefully, its plastic crunching, and he slammed his hand against the door behind her. His other hand tangling in the chain, he ground his cock against her palm.

He felt close, so thick and ready, she could feel him tensing for the rush, and her fingers slipped around him and over and into herself. She was riding the waves and his toned heat, and then he pinched one of her nipples so abruptly, so _hard_ with his smooth, buffed nails -- the pen fell as she cried out from the shock. "Elvis!"

Choking, Edward instantly stumbled backward. For once, he didn't sound composed or certain, nor did he still look at all aroused. " _That_ was your safe word?"

Her hand, despite the stickiness, was clapped to her mouth. She withdrew it slowly. "Yes. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said quietly. "I'm just . . . curious. What made you choose that?"

"It was --" she started, then stopped and bent to retrieve her bra and blouse. "It was a word I always thought was fun."

He watched her but didn't reply.

"I think I'm going to get some sleep. Happy anniversary, Edward." Lee went to their bedroom hiding a smile that she continued wearing when she got into bed (and had to hide again the next morning when washing red Sharpie marks from her breasts).

Although Edward didn't join her for quite a while that night, she doubted he had been masturbating.

*~*~*

 _I hadn't been lying, technically. "Elvis"_ was _a fun word. It also happened to be Edward's real first name. He never used it for anything, not for formal or informal situations, written or verbal. I'd had to copy the address where he was sending his father's birthday card -- which he'd signed "E. Edward Grey" -- and write to his father. His father's response was like a gravestone, short and cryptic and printed in block letters: "Elvis Edward Grey."_

 _I'd had no idea why that was his given name, or even if it really was. Maybe his parents had just as odd a sense of humor as Edward did. I'd figured it was worth a try, though. And it really was. Edward didn't catch on at all that first time._

 _The second time, I think he started to guess. I was blindfolded, face-up and spread-eagled on the bed, and he was tempering me: one moment, he would pour drops of melted wax somewhere on my naked body, and the next, he would pour ice water on me -- sometimes in the same place, sometimes not. No matter which it was, I shivered and burned every time. Both were liquid, and so was I. Hearing him jack his cock turned me on more. When he was about to come, his breath spilled raggedly, and the wax drizzle zigzagged and spattered on my pussy, and just like before, I shouted that name._

 _He pulled off the blindfold right away and searched my eyes. I probably didn't manage to hide it that time, the fact that I had hit orgasm but had used the safe word before he could reach his. But he let me get away with it then._

*~*~*

Washing down the counter in the master bathroom a few weeks after her second safe word invocation, Lee pushed the folded cuffs of one of Edward's old dress shirts from where they had slid down her arms back above her elbows. She sighed at the rub of cloth across her pierced nipples.

The front door closed, and Edward announced his return from an unspecified errand.

She called back, "Hello! In here."

She watched Edward's reflection in the bathroom mirror as he wheeled a small, boxy machine into their bedroom. His heated expression, intent on the machine, had Lee unconsciously shifting her soap-slick hands to a wetter position between her bare thighs. She kept them there, her fingers riding a line into her underwear under the hem of Edward's shirt, during the slow geisha shuffle into the bedroom.

He observed her approach. With two steps separating them, he held up one hand.

She stopped immediately, shoulders back. "What's that?"

Various wires, eggshell colored but finger-thick, protruded from the machine. Edward plugged several into a surge protector. "Something new we're going to try."

"Where did you get it?" she asked curiously.

"Dr. Rollins, the chiropractor whom I sometimes meet for consultations. He just upgraded his equipment at the office and is letting us borrow this, unofficially." Giving her a look that defied additional questions from her, Edward kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt.

Lee knelt before him. Her teeth closed around the buckle, steel, like a compacted handcuff on her tongue. She crawled backward on her knees, back straight, knees warmed by the rub of the carpet, and palms still together against wet cotton. She drew the leather from its moorings in relentless inches. Her smile at his closing eyes tightened her hold on the buckle, even when the length of the belt flopped, spent, to the carpet. She bent her head to his waist again, to the zipper tab that she pried up with her tongue and dragged down, tooth by tooth.

His polo shirt landed atop the belt after he handed it to her. So did his pants, socks, and boxer-briefs. She started to unbutton the shirt she wore, but he shook his head. "Take out your piercings, just for tonight, but leave the shirt on after that."

"Okay."

He went to the bathroom and retrieved their rubber bathmat, which he spread over the carpet beside the machine. When she sat back on her heels beside it, he shook his head again.

"Hands and knees, Lee." His voice was calm, purposeful. "On the mat."

She followed his direction. The soap and fluid on her palms was drying, sticky. Within a minute, she felt her underwear being eased down her thighs and the shirttails against her ass being folded above her waist. She started to turn her head to watch.

Edward's hands framed her cheeks. "You'll either look the other way, or you'll wear a blindfold. Which will it be?"

One eyebrow raised, she studied his face. Her gaze slid to the gravitational sway of his blue necktie and the interruption of the lines of his pants by his increasing erection. She trusted him more than she did herself. "I'd like your tie over my eyes. Please."

"Of course," he obliged.

Silk whispered across her skin, around her ankles, wrists, and neck, before Edward secured it in a double band around her forehead.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Edward asked.

"Um, I don't --" Lee squinted but could see nothing. She gasped as a couple of cool digits slid over her clit.

He pushed the same fingers inside her. "How many?"

"Two," she said through a moan and another thrust. She moaned again when the fingers disappeared. "Edward."

"Have patience."

There was a brief crackling sound, like a price sticker peeling from a gift, before Edward pressed a small, flexible disc to her lower back on the left side. She could feel a slight strain against the disc when she shifted. The sound repeated three more times, with pressure to her lower back on the right and to the center of each cheek of her ass.

"All right. You'll need to tell me when to stop." The rich note of amusement lacing his words sent a tingle down Lee's back.

The tingle was followed by a four-pronged burst of electricity sparking into her skin. Her spine stiffened. Her whole body tightened as the voltage amped up slightly, once, then again, then again. And again.

Power hummed through her, breaking down knots of tension from having bent over the sink and building new pathways to conduct the heat. All of it was going directly to her cunt. The mat dragged against her sticky hands and rerouted friction to meet the alternate flow. She writhed upward in a pointless attempt to get closer to the source as the electricity increased again. Her muscles flexed and released in waves. Edward's flat palm whistled faintly through the air before smacking the left side of her ass, just below the wires.

Lee whimpered, and he struck the opposite side.

"What was that, Lee? Did you say something?" he asked, voice deep. He spanked her again before grasping her hips as he drove his cock into her pussy.

She knew that the way her muscles were jerking should have been painful. It wasn't comfortable, but the stimulation didn't hurt how it might have someone else. She felt as though she were being massaged, roughly but surely, from the inside out. She felt elemental -- pure and bright and real, strong and wild.

"Elvis," she breathed, only because of how she was sure he would react.

"That's what I thought." Edward's strokes faltered, and when his hands left her body, more current flooded her. He held still, then leaned forward so that his chest draped over her back and he filled her to the root. His thrusts emphasized the jolts of electricity surging through them. Her knees and palms heated, scraped over the rubber. "I should punish you all night for being so manipulative."

She tried to beg, to say, 'Yes, please.' Lost in the unadulterated pleasure of conducting so much fervent energy, she could only moan and take it as he pushed into her one more time and came, carrying her with him into rapture that blazed through every connected inch of her.

*~*~*

 _The following morning, Edward finally admitted that his mother had chosen his first name; even before the live performances that led to the_ Elvis Rocks Des Moines _and_ Down in Des Moines _album releases, she'd been rocked by Elvis Presley. Not physically, at least as far as Edward knew or wanted to know, but she had been a big enough fan of The King's voice and hips to impose his name on her son, who'd despised it from day one._

 _That stopped being my safe word. The next occasion when I tried to use it -- just to see what effect it would have -- Edward actually growled. He got even harder, came even faster, and kept me from following until I felt the sparks._

 _Dr. Rollins never asked for the return of his machine. I did type up a very nice thank-you note to the chiropractor, which Edward signed with his full name, in an explosive, messy scrawl._

  


\- end - 


End file.
